


here's hoping we collide

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Comfort Sex, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:26:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “You would think they’d make it harder to break into their castle,” Mei huffs, and heaves the body of a guard into one of the empty rooms to sprawl with the others.





	here's hoping we collide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squiggly_lines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiggly_lines/gifts).



“You would think they’d make it harder to break into their castle,” Mei huffs, and heaves the body of a guard into one of the empty rooms to sprawl with the others.

With a chuckle, Kisame hauls the door shut, then steps back, and Mei gleefully grabs the latch and melts it into slag to seal the whole things shut. “A real fight would have been nice,” he agrees cheerfully, peering up the hall towards the battlements. “But if Yagura's not going to leave a better force, it’s his own fault he’s getting robbed.”

Mei smirks. “The most valuable treasure of all,” she agrees slyly, mostly for the thought of Zabuza’s face when he hears his new title.

Kisame's grin is big, sharp teeth and well-contained bloody humor. “I think he needs to be reminded not to put himself in so much danger,” he says. “Since he’s so precious.”

“Worth more than all the gold and jewels in this blighted castle,” Mei agrees, and starts down the hall in the opposite direction. Yagura's dungeon barely deserves the name; it’s on the fifth story of the castle, and Mei would be deeply offended by the deviation from tradition except that Yagura added a river flowing through the basement of his castle instead. And really, given that Kisame's mother was a shark goddess, they might as well have thrown a welcome feast for him.

Kisame laughs, following her closely. He has his sword slung over his shoulder with careless ease, and he’s wearing his shark-form, which means he’s sent at least three guardsmen plummeting to their deaths when they bolted away from him screaming bloody murder. “Utakata is going to be so sad we didn’t stop to raid the treasury.”

Mei rolls her eyes as she rounds the corner, then brings her staff around in a blur to crack the lurking mage over the head. He drops, fire sizzling out around his fingers, and Mei steps over his body without care. They never expect a physical attack. It’s pathetic. “Utakata can waltz in and raid the treasury himself if he wants it so badly,” she retorts.

Chuckling, Kisame steps ahead of her to reach the next door, and picks up the lock to study it. “This one’s charmed,” he says, and simply wrenches it up, tearing the metal like paper. Magic sparks, red-hot and edged with black, but instead of activating it sinks into Kisame's skin, drawn in like water into dry earth. Dropping the useless lock, Kisame shakes out his hand, then gives Mei a smile. “We can check the treasury on the way out, if you want.”

Mei smiles back, then reaches up. Kisame bends to meet her, smile softening, and takes the kiss gently, carefully, reverently. Kissing Kisame is like holding a waterfall in her hands, strength and elemental might suspended and waiting, turned to her out of all the people in the world. He’s a good kisser, too, not overwhelming or too tentative, polite but enthusiastic right up until he isn't anymore. Mei hums, sinking her fingers into his dark hair and twisting, and the hitch of his breath is gratifying, intriguing.

When they separate, Kisame is smiling, lighter and easier than before. He strokes some of Mei's hair back from her face, calluses skimming rough across her cheek, and leans in to slant one more kiss across her mouth before he pulls back. “We should remind Zabuza why it’s a bad idea to get captured,” he says cheerfully. “Especially when there are people waiting for him.”

Mei was thinking rather the same thing. She laughs, settling her staff against the stone and leaning on it as Kisame goes to haul the door open, and offers, “Ropes?”

“He’d enjoy that too much,” Kisame points out, then frowns a little. He jerks at the door, then huffs and steps back. A hard kick splinters wood, and with a sad groan the door tips right off its hinges and collapses to the ground.

Mei refrains from pointing out that she could simply have melted it down to ash, and follows him into the misplaced dungeon. She ducks as he sweeps his sword out, colliding with the first guard approaching from the maze of cells, and steps around the pikewoman as she tries to fend Kisame off. In tight quarters like this, Mei is less inclined to fling around lava of any sort, since she’s wary of taking out supporting beams, but she gets her staff up, catches the blade of a sword on the heavy wood, and kicks out, catching the guard in the stomach. He doubles over with a wheeze, and Mei brings her staff down hard on his skull, dropping him. There are two more coming at her, one trying to be stealthy, the other shouting, and Mei rolls her eyes and levels a finger at the latter. Lightning crackles, and she smirks as his eyes widen in horrified realization.

“Whoops,” she says sweetly, even as the lightning leaps away. It hits the guard with a crackle, amplified by his armor, and he crashes to the ground with a ragged cry. “I guess I forgot to use my staff, silly me.” Turning, she catches the second guard with a right hook, sidesteps a sword aimed at her gut, and winks and blows the woman a kiss. The rush of acidic mist that carries it is just a coincidence.

With a chuckle, Kisame steps over one of the bodies, shaking the blood off his blade. “If you keep that up, everyone’s going to know you're not actually a mage,” he points out.

“It’s not as though I'm trying to _hide_ anything,” Mei counters. “Everyone who knew my mother and father knows just how much spirit blood I have.”

Kisame concedes that with a laugh. “Leading a rebellion of magical creatures is a pretty good clue, too,” he says, amused.

“ _People_ ,” Mei counters, because she’ll never waver on this. “We’re _people_.”

Kisame concedes that with a huff, but his eyes are on the cells as they pass, checking the inhabitants. Each one is worse off than the last, and Mei looks too, feels her stomach churn. She sends out a wisp of corrosive mist to eat away the locks on each cell, but doesn’t pause. Zabuza is nearby; there's no way Yagura wouldn’t keep his most prized captive in the very heart of his prison, easily accessible for gloating and punishment. But if Yagura took Zabuza with him, if they already decided to execute him—

Kisame catches her arm, tugging her close with a soft sound. “Mei,” he says, and that tone is flat and cold and _furious_.

Heart in her throat, Mei turns. The narrow path between the cells opens up, spreads out into a room bordered on all sides by cages, and in the center is another cage. There are no solid walls, just bars, and within them—

“Took you fucking long enough,” Zabuza tells them, slumped back against the metal.

A broken arm, Mei thinks clinically. And he’s been beaten thoroughly, bruises livid against his skin. There are cuts, too, deep and precise, and a brand on one shoulder, scorched and weeping.

Her mark. They branded him with _her mark_ , the sign of the rebellion. Mei is going to melt their castle down with every soul inside of it, and spit on the ashes.

Kisame catches her shoulder, squeezing gently, and then pushes forward with a grin. “We thought you’d appreciate the chance to escape on our own,” he says, already pulling a healing potion from his pack.

Zabuza snorts, getting his feet under himself and slowly, painfully levering himself upright. “I decided I liked the food too much to leave,” he retorts, though if they’ve fed him at all Mei can't see any signs of it. Zabuza doesn’t put on weight well at the best of times, and right now he’s even thinner than normal.

“Well,” she says, and though she tries to keep the words light as she approaches, she’s not sure how successful she actually is. “If you can bear to tear yourself away, Kisame and I have been getting into fights over the blankets, and we were hoping you’d moderate.”

Zabuza meets her eyes, and that grin is crooked, bruised, but still every bit the asshole she first dragged into her bed when they were terrified teenagers. “Easy, you're the biggest blanket hog I've ever fucking met. You’d think someone who spits lava wouldn’t be as cold-blooded as a lizard.”

Mei sniffs. “Dragons are cold-blooded, too,” she says, and drops her staff to wrap both hands around the bars. A breath is all it takes before the metal starts to drip and run, washing down like liquid to pool on the stone. Mei steps over it, and Zabuza is already reaching out to her, so it’s as simple as anything to reach back, to grab Zabuza’s hand and haul him up and in. For a moment Mei feels a flicker of panic over his wounds, but Zabuza doesn’t seem to care; he collapses against her, good arm sliding around her back, and Mei lets out a shuddering, shaken breath, pressing her cheek against his hair.

He shivers, the tension sliding out of him one inch at a time, and then asks, “Haku?”

Big hands settle over Zabuza’s hips, and Kisame leans against his back, dropping his forehead against the back of Zabuza’s head. “Fine,” he says soothingly. “He made it back to camp this morning and told us you got him out.”

Zabuza’s chuckle is rough. “Thought he’d be useful,” he says, like Mei doesn’t _know_ he took one look at a half-spirit boy and immediately got him out of danger. And a cost to himself, clearly.

She runs her fingers through his short hair, drags her fingers down, careful of the brand, and the rage is a dark, furious thing, knotted in her throat. “Kisame,” she says. “The potion. If I pour it right on that mark, it might—”

“Leave the burn,” Zabuza says, and when Mei goes still he lifts his head, meeting her eyes. His are dark, and angry, but there's a fierce, blazing stubbornness in their depths that makes Mei's heart trip over itself. “Those bastards think carrying your mark’s a bad thing, or a punishment? Fuck ‘em.”

Mei's laugh shakes, but she curls her fingers over Zabuza’s cheek. “I’d prefer it hadn’t been _burned into your skin_ ,” she says, and Zabuza snorts.

“Since when have I ever tried to give you what you want, Terumī?” he asks, and Kisame chuckles.

“He’s got a point,” he offers, and when Mei narrows her eyes at him he just grins, pulling Zabuza back and carefully lowering them both down to the floor. Mei follows them down, kneeling between Zabuza’s legs, and takes the bottle Kisame hands her.

“Want something to bite down on?” she asks, holding his gaze. Healing potions, especially those made by Orochimaru, are never pleasant, and especially not for as much damage as Zabuza is sporting.

“Want to stick your tongue in my mouth?” Zabuza mocks, and Mei snorts. She uncorks the bottle, raising it to  Zabuza’s lips, and when he opens his mouth she tilts it up, watching him swallow. Then, instantly, she lunges forward, fitting their mouths together. Zabuza gasps, but he grabs her hair, hauls her in and kisses her desperately even as he shakes, and Mei tangles her fingers with Kisame's and kisses Zabuza through it.

 

 

The sight of two bodies curled on the bedroll is enough to ease the knot around Mei's heart the instant she pushes into the tent.

“Doing better?” she asks, kicking off her shoes, then stripping off all of her clothes except her shift and crossing to settle on the blankets next to the tangle of limbs.

Zabuza hums, not even bothering to open his eyes as she strokes his hair. “Fucking fantastic,” he says. “Food’s fucking amazing.”

Especially if you’ve been starved for a week, Mei thinks, but doesn’t say. She glances up to the faint glow of Kisame's eyes in the dimness, and he smiles back, relaxed and easy, all broad bare shoulders and quiet contentment.

“Finished up out there?” he asks, and when he reaches out Mei slips her hand into his, lets herself be pulled down until she’s chest-to-chest with Zabuza.

“At last,” Mei says with a sigh, and Zabuza lifts the blankets up so she can slide under, pressing herself up against the hard lines of him, tangling their legs and wrapping her arm around his waist. “Haku is settling in with Mangetsu and his brother, and our defenses are prepared in case Yagura decides to try something and manages to find the camp. I think he’ll be more concerned with his castle, though.”

Zabuza makes a rough sound of amusement. “You're all about the overkill, aren’t you?” he asks dryly.

“They took what was mine,” Mei says easily, and gives him a sly smile, sliding a splayed hand down his bare chest. “More precious than all the gold or political power, my _darling_ —”

“Oh, fuck you with a rusty mace,” Zabuza says, sounding disgusted, and kicks her ankle under the blanket. Mei laughs, digs her fingers into the spot on his side she _knows_ is ticklish, and when he jolts and starts to squirm Kisame leans in, wrapping Zabuza in his arms and dragging him back against his broader body. He pins Zabuza’s hands, ignoring the furious curse it gets him, and Mei takes that as a clear invitation, sliding closer with her fingers spread threateningly.

“ _No_ ,” Zabuza hisses at her. “Fuck you, don’t you _dare_ , Terumī, I’ll overthrow you and dump you in a fucking _pond_ —”

Mei can't resist; she breaks down laughing, and instead of tickling him, she leans in, fits their mouths together for a slow, teasing kiss. Her touch this time is firmer, sliding down his side to find that he isn't wearing anything under the covers, and she hums in interest, rubbing her thumb against the jut of his hipbone.

There's a rough breath against her mouth, and Zabuza pulls away. He meets her eyes, his own narrowed, and says, “If you start that you’d better be ready to follow through, Mei.”

It’s a warning, but it makes Mei smile, slow and lazy. “Oh?” she asks, raising a brow, and casts a look at Kisame, who’s propped up on one elbow and watching them both with interest.

He grins, all teeth, and says, “I could go for a tumble.”

“Mm.” Mei lets her hand slip sideways, finding Zabuza’s half-hard cock and relishing the catch of his breath. “Me too. Just like this?”

Zabuza chuckles, draws her in for another kiss, this one with more teeth and heat than the last. “Sure you don’t mind not being in the middle?” he asks, and a glance back includes Kisame in the question as well.

Kisame rolls his hips, and it drags a groan from Zabuza, makes his eyes flutter shut. Pressing a kiss beneath his ear, Kisame drags a hand up his chest, and says, “After a whole week of looking for you, I think you owe us both some fun.”

“How fucking awful,” Zabuza says, dust-dry, and makes a low, rough sound when Mei wraps her hand around his cock, stroking lightly to get him hard.

“Just grin and bear it,” she advises, and casts a heavy-lidded glance at Kisame. “Want to open him up?”

“Always.” Kisame grins, leans over to catch Zabuza’s mouth in a quick, deep kiss, then rolls away. Zabuza looks like he’s going to protest, but Mei distracts him, tightening her grip and wringing a gasp from his throat. Immediately, he gets his hands on the hem of her shift, tugging it up, and Mei tosses the blankets back and sits up, letting him pull it off over her head.

The sudden glow of a lamp catching makes them both glance up, just in time to see Kisame settle the lantern on a hook above the bed, then cast them a smile that’s full of mischief. “I want to see you fall apart,” he tells Zabuza cheerfully. “And I figured this would be easier on Mei's eyes, in case she wants to see it, too.”

“Absolutely.” Mei skims her fingers over Zabuza’s chest, but she’s not quite able to help her gaze drifting to the brand on his shoulder. The potion healed it as much as it could, but the mark is stark white against Zabuza’s tanned skin, raised and rough. It’s the mist-mark they’ve been using for the rebellion since the beginning, but it makes threads of anger rise even so.

“Hey,” Zabuza says, and catches her hand. He tugs it up, pressing her palm right over the scar, and leans in to kiss her gently. “We always knew I was yours. I've lived that way since I was fifteen, and I’ll die that way. This just shows it to any idiot who couldn’t see it already.”

Zabuza’s always dealt well with torture, and Mei hates that she has the frame of reference to know that. He’s shaky and twitchy and paranoid for a few weeks after, clings a little tighter at night, but—this is his normal reaction. Yagura's troops have captured him before, and it hasn’t changed anything. Mei supposes that this time just feels different because they used _her mark_ to hurt him. To scar him permanently. But—

Zabuza doesn’t see it as a scar, she thinks, and kisses him again, deep and insistent, tangling their tongues together as she drags him closer. With a low, dark sound, Zabuza moves, toppling her back to the bedroll and looming over her. His next kiss is biting, and Mei bites back, then laughs into his mouth and shoves him away with one hard push.

“Next,” she teases, and Zabuza laughs too, even as Kisame catches his elbow, drags him up and into Kisame's lap. Mei hums, propping herself up on one elbow as they kiss, and it’s the prettiest thing she’s seen in a long while, Kisame's hands spread across Zabuza’s back, Zabuza’s legs stretched astride Kisame's lap. Lazily, she slips a hand down between her own legs as one of Kisame's hands slides downward, leaving a tracery of oil down Zabuza’s spine. He hooks a hand under Zabuza’s ass, rocking him forward, and there's a sharp, hitching gasp as he presses the first finger up and in.

Mei groans, rubbing the pad of her thumb over her clit and feeling the heat curl in her belly. She can see the aborted hitches of Zabuza’s hips, hear the catch of his breath, and she tips her head back, spreading her legs. Rubbing a finger over her folds, she presses lightly on her clit, slides the tip of her finger inside herself with a soft, breathy sigh, and—

“Let—let me,” Zabuza starts, fractured and breathless. He twists in Kisame's grip, and Kisame chuckles, kissing beneath his jaw and then hauling him up like he weighs nothing. In an instant, Zabuza goes spilling to the bed on his hands and knees, right next to Mei, and he gets a hand on her knee and tugs.

Knowing what he wants and more than willing, Mei shifts, tossing one of her legs over his shoulder and spreading the other. Zabuza drops, hooking her thighs around his arms, and curls in even as Kisame pulls his hips up to put him on his knees. The first long, hot lick across her folds makes Mei huff, and she draws her finger out, twists her hands into Zabuza’s hair instead.

“I was going to ride your face when Kisame got done with you,” she says roughly, and it’s hard to get the words out when Zabuza’s mouth is slanting over her, his fingers tugging gently at her clit. “But this works. Ah!”

The heat of Zabuza’s tongue sliding inside her makes her buck, and she tries not to drag his head too hard against her, tries not to clench her legs around his head, but there's shivery warmth rising in her veins, cascading up her spine, and she moans.

Kisame chuckles, leaning over them, and slides a hand in a slow stroke up and down Zabuza’s back. “Putting that mouth to good use?” he asks cheerfully, and Mei laughs, breathless and tangled around a moan. Zabuza’s mouth is on her clit, sucking gently, and she swallows a whimper, presses up into him even as he jerks, head coming up. With a sound of amusement, Kisame kisses the skin between his shoulder blades, presses another finger inside him, and says teasingly, “Weren’t you doing something, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you, Kisame,” Zabuza gets out, and his eyes are closed, mouth slack as he shifts his thighs open wider, rocks back into the stretch of Kisame's fingers with a quiet, strained sound. He’s not a handsome man, not in the way of some, but Mei traces the sharp lines of his face, the angles that make him so arresting to look at, and watches him enjoy himself. He’s lovely, and she loves him, and she almost _lost_ him. _They_ almost lost him.

Kisame meets her eyes over Zabuza’s shoulder, and his gaze is heavy, focused as it sweeps over her bare breasts, down her stomach. Gently, insistently, he nudges Zabuza’s head down, and says, “Mei's waiting for that mouth of yours, Zabuza. Why don’t you help her out?”

“Why don’t you fucking get in me and fuck my brains out?” Zabuza retorts, but he glances up at Mei as well, and the expression on his face is hungry.

Mei laughs, using her grip on hair to pull his head in again. “Keep that up and I’ll find my strap-on,” she threatens. It’s impossible to tell if the shudder Zabuza gives is from her words or the way Kisame thrusts his hand forward, three fingers sliding deep as Zabuza gasps, but it amounts to the same thing.

“Next round,” Kisame says roughly, and his grin is a dare. “You inside me sounds like heaven, but right now…”

Mei hums. “Right now _I_ want something in me,” she says, and urges Zabuza up. He eyes her, then snorts and ducks down, and Mei _yowls_ as he seals his mouth over her and sucks hard. Sparks flicker behind her eyes, and she arches, jerks, only to find he’s _pulling away_. When she cries out in protest, though, there’s a body settling over her, a mouth catching hers, and Zabuza tastes like her, like desire. She can feel his cock sliding over her cunt, and desperately she pushes a hand between them, grabs his shaft and guides him in, and Zabuza sinks into her with a wounded sound. He slides in all the way to the hilt, then stops, braced over her and breathing hard.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses, and Mei moans, clamps her muscles down on the hard, hot shaft inside of her and shivers.

Big hands cup her breasts, tease her nipples until she moans, and Kisame chuckles. He leans over Zabuza’s back, steals a kiss when Zabuza turns his head, and Mei slants him a smirk, locks her thighs around Zabuza’s hips. “Think you can hold still for me?” she asks Zabuza, watches his eyes flutter open, confusion and then desire flickering across his face. He swallows, then nods, and Mei strokes his hair, scrapes her nails over his scalp. “Good boy,” she croons, and Zabuza shoots her a glare like that’s going to do anything when she felt his cock twitch at the words.

“Sure he can,” Kisame says, and pinches Zabuza’s nipples. It makes him shiver, twitch, and when Kisame starts to tug and roll them Mei can feel the tension-tight strain as Zabuza fights not to move, tries to keep still even as Mei clenches down around him and Kisame leaves a string of bites across his shoulders. It drags a hoarse sound from him as his hands fist in the sheets, and Mei is just close enough to lean up and fit their mouths together, then rock herself back on his cock.

“Kisame?” she asks.

Kisame huffs in assent, leaving the blooming bruise on Zabuza’s neck and sitting back. He strokes Zabuza’s hip, then reaches for the vial of oil beside the bed and tips some into his palm. Mei watches him stroke it over his thick cock, and the sight is heady, makes it even harder not to rock back onto Zabuza.

“Sure you're ready?” he asks, teasing, as he shifts behind Zabuza.

“Shit.” Zabuza’s eyes fall closed. “If you don’t fuck me, I'm going to get Mei her strap-on and have her do it, bastard.”

“Mei is happy where she is,” Mei tells him, but she keeps her eyes on his face. The moment Kisame thrusts in she can _feel_ it, the desperate jerk of Zabuza’s body, the way he gets even harder inside of her, the teeth-clenched cry that shudders through him. She moans, and when Kisame's fingers catch her nipples again she arches into it with a sigh, dragging Zabuza’s head down to kiss his lax mouth as he pants for breath.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she murmurs against his lips, clamps down on his cock and lets him shudder in her arms. “Take his cock. Take the whole thing, and then give me yours.”

“You two,” Zabuza groans, “are going to fucking _kill me_.” But he does what she says, rocks back into Kisame and forward into her, and Mei gasps as he drives deep, sparks flickering across her nerves. With a guttural grunt, Kisame shoves forward, driving himself and Zabuza both all the way home. There's something desperate in the clutch of his hands on her, on Zabuza, and Mei reaches back, hauls him down as he shoves in deep, and Zabuza’s shout is lost between their mouths.

“Come here,” Kisame says, breathless, and grips her hands, holds her in tight as he rolls them over, pins Zabuza between them as they sprawl on their sides. Zabuza jerks, and Mei moans, but she drapes a leg over his hip, rocks down onto his cock hard and fast, and it’s like lightning, a burst of bright light and heat in her veins. Kisame's hand is on her, and Zabuza’s is at her clit even as he gasps into her mouth. Mei can feel everything building as they rock, she and Kisame surrounding Zabuza, taking him, and she fits her mouth to the scarred brand, desperate and open-mouthed and angry, so angry, so grateful that he’s here and alive and not hurt worse. The clutch of his arms around her, the way he presses back into Kisame's broadness, says he feels the same urgency, and Mei tries to get closer, wants to crawl right into his skin and never let him go as the force builds, coiled tight, silver light in her veins that’s tumbling towards a supernova.

Zabuza presses his thumb down over her clit just as his hips hitch hard, and it shatters through Mei, a wash of heat that steals her breath and makes her vision swim. She cries out, shudders, loses a moment like sand through her fingertips, and when she can focus again Zabuza has pulled out. He’s still hard, shaking over her, each of Kisame's thrusts pounding into him, and Mei fights through the languorous, lazy weight on each of her limbs to reach up and grip his cock, slick from her body. She’s never liked getting fucked through an orgasm, but Zabuza does, and he’s close right now, twisting and twitching as she drags a tight stroke up his cock. He cries out as Kisame pushes him down again, and Mei shifts aside just enough to let Kisame press Zabuza into the mattress, riding him with deep, hard trusts. Zabuza’s cries are choked, fractured, _beautiful_ , and Mei strokes him faster, drags a nail up one of the prominent veins. His orgasm hits him hard, makes him curl forward with a cry like it’s unexpected, too sudden for him to bear, and he claws at the blankets, twists, _whines_ as Kisame keeps going.

“Shh,” Mei soothes, and she rolls up enough to fit their mouths together, sloppy and off-center as she steals the sounds from his tongue. He clutches at her, fingers bruising, but Mei just curls around him, surrounds him, soothes him through the aftershocks even as Kisame doesn’t let up. He’s close, too; he’s gasping, shoulders tight, thrusts falling out of rhythm, and Mei kisses Zabuza, murmurs, “Are you good? Do you need to stop?”

“No,” Zabuza gasps out. “No, no, _more_ —”

Kisame groans, gutted, and redoubles his efforts until Zabuza’s begging breaks into wordless, desperate cries. He wraps his arms around Zabuza’s chest, gasping out words, and then stutters, sinks deep, and moans, low and breathy, as he comes.

Slowly, gently, Mei shifts until they're all sprawled on the mattress again, and she curls against Zabuza’s chest, leans over his shoulder. Kisame meets her with a kiss, cupping the back of her head with gentle fingers, and hums against her lips.

“Still want you with that strap-on for round two,” he says, teasing.

Mei laughs, tracing a knuckle over his cheek. “In a few hours,” she promises, and brushes Zabuza’s short hair off his forehead. “Zabuza?”

Zabuza makes a disgusted noise, face buried in her breasts. “Fuck off and let me have my afterglow, damn it.”

Mei laughs, low and throaty, and sinks back down onto the pillow. Zabuza kisses her shoulder, because he can never hold on to his grumpiness forever, and then rolls over to haul Kisame in to a kiss that’s lazy, messy, sweet. With a smile, Mei drops her head on his shoulder, watching them, and then closes her eyes.

“No more getting captured,” she tells Zabuza, and means it.

There's a pause, then a snort. “I don’t know,” Zabuza says. “If this is the kind of welcome home I get, it might be worth it.”

“Idiot,” Mei mutters, and Kisame chuckles.

“We can make this a regular thing, if that will convince you,” he says cheerfully. “Every Thursday?”

“And if you get captured, _no_ sex,” Mei threatens. “Or we’ll tie you up and make you watch us have sex.”

Zabuza snickers. “Kinky,” he says. “I like it—fucking hell, _Kisame_!”

Kisame, halfway sprawled on his chest the same way Mei is, gives him an innocent smile. “We’re cuddling you as punishment for letting yourself get captured,” he informs Zabuza.

“This is cuddling, this is _crushing_ ,” Zabuza complain on a wheeze, though he doesn’t try to shove Kisame off. Mei makes a pleased sound, settling in, and catches Kisame's hand, twining their fingers together and pressing them over Zabuza’s heart. Over the brand scar, as well.

“I don’t give up what’s mine,” she tells them softly, and there's a long, long pause.

“What’s yours will never give up on you, either,” Zabuza says gruffly, and Kisame rumbles his agreement as he tugs the covers back up over them.

“Never,” he promises, and it’s hardly the first time they’ve said those words, but Mei lets them settle in her bones, wrap around her lungs, etch into her heart. She doesn’t let go.


End file.
